Love Remains the Same
by wildirish
Summary: A Very Charloe Christmas Fanfic Exchange (goodshipcharloe dot com) gift. One-shot. AU No Blackout. Charlie can't stand watching Bass flirt with another woman. Bass wants nothing more than to ring in the New Year with Charlie. Both think they can never be together. They will learn they are both very wrong.


**_"_****Love Remains the Same****_"_**

**_By Wildirish_**

**A/N: **This is my story for the Very Charloe Christmas fanfic Gift exchange by the website thegoodshipcharloe (check out the website, btw. Links to the other exchange fics can be found there). **This is a gift for Loveforthestory**. Love, you wanted naughty or nice (but it'd be nicer if it was naughtier I gathered? Lol. So I gave you that, so **warning: smut below**). You wanted no Bachel (that's my mission statement, so done). I kind of took one of your prompts, which was that Charlie gets into a fight with her mother, and mixed it with another prompt that Charlie was not in the celebratory mood. This took on a life of its own. I swear I was not prepared for it and it became a lot longer than was actually necessary for the assignment. It's an AU because I've been dying to write one so I hope that's okay with you. Sorry it wasn't up in time for Christmas but since New Year's was your holiday of choice I gave myself until then. **Happy New Year's to you Love and to all of you as well! Here's to lots more Charloe fanfic in our futures!** :)

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><p><strong><em>"Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year." – Ralph Waldo Emerson <em>**

**_"Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, 'It will be happier.'" – Alfred Lord Tennyson_**

Charlie stormed out on the terrace, letting the shrill, wintry Chicago air cool her skin and her temper. It was her parents' usual company New Year's Eve party inside. Except that it wasn't her _parents_ anymore. Just parent now. Singular. Eight months since her father had been tragically taken from her. She'd been close to her dad; far closer than she ever was with her mother, who had doted on her younger brother Danny. It was her dad who had understood her desire to go to college for English literature instead of the more practical computer science Rachel had preferred.

Now her father wasn't even gone a year and she'd caught her mother with her Uncle Miles. Charlie had wanted a few minutes of peace from the party and had gone to the coat room to grab her calf-length red pea coat when she'd heard a sound, a muffled giggle and a groan. She figured some of the employees had hit the bar too hard and were fooling around. She would have ignored it except that the light caught the sparkle off a black sequined dress—the same dress she knew her mother was wearing. Astounded, Charlie stood motionless as she watched through a crack in the door as her mother and uncle wrapped their arms around each other and kissed.

The betrayal was like a one-two punch to her solar plexus and Charlie couldn't control the strangled gasp that slipped through her lips. The sound carried to the clandestine lovers and they turned to the door and saw Charlie staring at them in disbelief. Charlie turned to flee but her mother had pulled open the door calling for her, stilling Charlie's hasty retreat.

"Charlie, please, let me explain," Rachel beseeched from the open doorway.

Charlie turned around and looked at her mother. Her hair was mussed and her lipstick was all gone. She had a kind of glossy gaze to her eyes and Charlie wondered what exactly she would have come across if she'd arrived five minutes earlier. The thought made her stomach churn.

"Explain what Mother? The fact that you are screwing around with your dead husband's brother when he hasn't even been dead a year?!" Charlie demanded uncaring that her voice could carry down the hall and back to the merry revelers.

"Charlie, please keep your voice down," Rachel scolded as if _Charlie_ had breached the rules of decorum.

"Why?"

"Because I'm your mother and you won't speak to me that way," Rachel said.

"That's rich. I'm supposed to respect the woman who is disrespecting the memory of my father," Charlie scoffed.

"Kid—" Miles stepped in but Charlie sliced over his words with a cold glare. The look on her face stopped Miles because Charlie had never given that look to him before. He'd always been her beloved, favorite uncle.

"I am not your kid," Charlie ground out. "Never call me that again. In fact, I never want to see either of you ever again. Are we clear? We're done. We'll keep up appearances sake for Danny because I don't want to hurt him but the three of us? We're done."

"Charlie!" Miles called out and it pulled at her that his voice sounded hurt. But she ignored her inclination to give her uncle the benefit of the doubt. This, this was too much. It was more than being a forgetful uncle or a drunk. He'd been through war and clearly suffered from PTSD and Charlie had always pitied the rather broken look she'd always registered in her uncle's eyes. But PTSD wasn't an excuse to be a dick. Especially on a night like this—the night of the traditional New Year's Eve party and the last night of the last year her father had been alive.

Forgetting her coat, Charlie had marched out and found the nearest terrace. She hoped the sting of the cold air would freeze her tears before they could fall. She didn't want to cry because she didn't want to go back inside and have to explain to Danny why she'd been crying. Of course she could maybe get away with a lie—something about how she was sad that she and Jason had just broken up before the holidays and now she was ringing in the New Year alone. Maybe, just maybe, she could convince him of the lie but her brother so often saw through her.

Thinking of Jason made her think of _why_ she'd been trying to find a moment alone to begin with. It was more than just the memory of her dad that was following her around tonight. It was Bass.

Sebastian Monroe, her uncle's best friend. He'd been a permanent fixture in her life growing up. As much as Miles was.

She'd seen him flirting with a beautiful woman in a floor length blue gown. She knew it shouldn't twist her up inside but it did. She had no reason to feel jealousy; they'd had a tiny, miniscule fling last Fourth of July. It wasn't even a fling, she told herself. They had both consumed far too much alcohol and had ended up making out behind the small shed in the backyard of her childhood home. The second his lips had touched hers and his hands had touched her, the searing heat of both had burned through all of the alcohol she had consumed. It hadn't been much of a party; her father had only died that May. Everyone had barely eaten anything and yet drank everything somberly before dispersing early.

Now that she thought about it, Rachel and Miles had disappeared around the same time. She hadn't put much thought into it—just that maybe they were grieving together. Now she could only imagine what they had been doing. Danny had left so he could be with his girlfriend, who he had been spending more and more time with and not at home. For Charlie, who had her own apartment, she found it hard to leave her childhood home because it had vestiges of her times with her father. It was their first holiday without him.

Bass had seemed to understand her conundrum: the pain of being there and the agony of walking away from it too. So he had stuck around long after others had slipped away and the sun had settled. They had heard the booming of the fireworks being set off and he had pulled her from their spot at the patio table to a better vantage point. She didn't know what possessed her but she had looked at him and saw his handsome face in the glow of bursting roman candles and leaned into him and kissed him.

He had pulled away in surprise—but not very far. She could feel the brush of his breath touching her lips and she inhaled him and that seemed to intoxicate her more than the alcohol. Then Bass had wrapped his strong arms around her waist, his large hands splayed across the small of her back pulling her close to him and captured her lips for his own. The kiss was all she had thought of in that moment. She'd forgotten her father was gone and thereby her own crushing grief. For the first time in weeks she'd felt exhilarated—_alive_. The snapping echo of a screen door had torn them apart eventually.

They had both stared stunned at each other, gasping for breath, grasping for reasoning. For Charlie it had been a girlhood dream come true. She had been in love with Bass since she'd been twelve and far too young to understand what love really was. As she grew, her childlike love had grown more physical—hormones had taken over and she'd found her adoration coupled with a growing need to be physically near him. To touch him. To know what it would be like to be to be touched by him.

Bass had always been casual in his commitments, this a young Charlie knew. She'd heard her parents and uncle making comments once and awhile about Bass' inability to stay with someone long enough to become emotionally involved. Charlie had once heard her mother supposition that it was because he'd lost his entire family and Bass was reticent to let anyone else get close enough to cut that deep again. As Charlie grew up she realized that she and her family were the exception to that rule but only because they'd already burrowed deep into Bass' heart before his tragic loss and he was therefore incapable of dislodging them. He clung to them, in truth, and they let him because he was loved as much as he loved them.

However all of Charlie's young foolish dreams that she would eventually be the one girl—_woman_—who would capture Bass' eye and heart came crumbling down when she was sixteen. Bass had met a woman, Shelley, and they had hit it off right from the start. He started bringing her around to family dinners and parties. If she occasioned to run into Bass in public, Shelley was often with him or he was out with the intention of doing something for Shelley. Charlie got to see all the looks she imagined Bass once giving her being given to someone else instead. It had been crushing. All the little seeds that had rooted in her were destroyed by the drought her despair wrought. Yet she was loathed to hate Shelley because Charlie loved Bass so much and she could see what Shelley brought to Bass. She brought him hope and light and joy. Eventually Charlie realized that it was better he get those things at all than be bitter it wasn't from her. And she'd let her hopes and feelings go.

She finally stopped rejecting all the passes boys her age gave her and gave into being a teenager. Not a girl waiting to become a woman for a man. She went on dates, to parties; she eventually got a boyfriend and lost her virginity. She'd truly cared about Jeff and they'd dated for the better part of a year. But he'd been a year older and he'd moved to Boston to go to school and their relationship ended.

So while Charlie immersed herself in life and learned to live without all her feelings for Bass, Bass was discovering that there was more to life too than just the heartbreak of loss. Shelley and he became pregnant. They were wed in a simple ceremony at city hall, moved in together and prepared to build a family together. The joy she had seen on Bass' face was immeasurable when he and Shelley had shared the news of their impending baby. At seventeen, and just about to embark on her collegiate career, Charlie had been far from ready to be a mother and understood that Bass was in the right time in his life to become a father. It had made it easier for her to accept Shelley because she could clearly give him something that Charlie just couldn't.

So when Bass lost both his wife and child during a particularly horrific delivery, Charlie had been all the more devastated for Bass. To see the joy now replaced with a crushing agony and despair had been horrible to witness; especially when at that point, Charlie had come to care about Shelley too. Bass was free and thereby all her dreams of him were then able to come back but they didn't. At least not the same way. Charlie could take no pleasure out of such a tragedy. And her dreams of a life with Bass had brought her a happiness and a hope she'd found nowhere else. So Charlie had kept those dreams tucked away because it wasn't right. She understood now that she was too young for him and also completely out of her depth in dealing with his heartbreak.

She'd called, texted and e-mailed with him but she'd kept it strictly platonic. They got to know each other more than they had before. It was strange to learn that for someone she had known her entire life there was much about Bass that she didn't know. They had struck up an odd friendship in the intervening years.

As time marched on it became increasingly difficult for Charlie to keep her dreams at bay. They were pressing against her chest, the chain on her heart barely able to restrain them. When her father had died last spring after a brutal battle with cancer, Bass was the place she went to. He was her safe haven; a shelter in a storm. Who else could truly understand her own devastation? She hadn't been able to be in her childhood home but couldn't stand to be alone in her apartment either. Bass surrendered his bed and migrated to his couch for four days. He let her cry on his shoulder; he would talk to her about anything other than the big, gaping hole in her life now. They stayed up and watched TV; they sat in complete silence. He cooked for her and made sure she ate something. In those four days, Charlie had felt something change between them. His kindness, consideration and care had been the final key to unlocking her heart and in four days all her old wishes came back to life. There were times she thought Bass must have felt it too; the way she could feel his eyes on her even if she wasn't looking—especially then. The new look in his eyes when he'd give her a small smile of encouragement. And because one time she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder, exhausted from a long crying jag and splitting a bottle of wine with Bass, he had scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to his bedroom. Charlie could feel sleep like an anchor pulling her under but in her last moments of semi-consciousness Charlie could have sworn she heard Bass whisper her name, "Charlotte," brush her hair from her face and maybe it was the product of the dream she'd already been sliding into but she thought she felt his lips on her forehead.

But after the Fourth of July, Bass had pulled away from her and that had hurt. She was already grieving the loss of her father and now she had to mourn the loss of the man who had become her best friend. The most heartbreaking thing had been discovering that Bass had begun dating a woman he had met through work—he owned a private security firm—and nothing ever came of their moment together.

A few months ago, Charlie began dating Jason, a classmate from college who had shown an interest in her before. Jason was easygoing and it should have been easy, simple really, to be with him. Except in her heart she knew she was settling for something and couldn't do it. Not to him or to herself. Maybe she was destined to be alone and that was sad, but it had to be better than just settling on being with anyone rather than being with the one. And for Charlie it felt like in her heart and her dreams that Sebastian Monroe was the one.

And the one she could never have.

She figured part of the reason nothing could ever happen between them was because of who they were. He was Bass; she was Charlie. There were twenty years dividing them as well as the roles they played in the lives of others. He was Miles' best friend and surrogate brother; she was Miles' niece. Bass had become another member of the Matheson family when he'd lost both of his families. Part of Charlie had worried how her parents and Miles would take the news if she and Bass were ever to become a thing. Mostly she worried for Bass more than herself. Bass had no one—Miles and the rest of the Mathesons were it for his family. Charlie knew she would always have Danny; their bond was unbreakable. Charlie couldn't bear to be responsible for tearing apart Bass and Miles, two brothers if ever there were.

She scoffed at the idea that she'd been worried about ruining Miles' relationship with Bass when she'd just caught him with her mother—his real brother's widow.

"Charlie?"

The sound of his voice sent shivers down her body that had nothing to do with the cold air.

"Just leave me alone," she said.

"Can't," Bass said and she felt him place his suit jacket around her bare arms. "What are you doing out here all by yourself without a coat?"

"I just needed some air and to be alone," Charlie explained.

"Charlie, look at me," Bass commanded but Charlie couldn't. She didn't have the energy or desire to wear the veneer that had become necessary whenever she was around him these last several months. Reflexively, Charlie squeezed her eyes shut.

Bass' warm hand rested upon her very cold one on the balcony railing. "Charlotte. Please."

When he used that voice—the one that was earnest and coaxing in his alluring low timbre, Charlie was hard pressed to deny herself the simple pleasure of looking at him. She turned and she watched as his piercing blue eyes saw right through her, squinted as if he couldn't believe the level of her anguish and sympathetic because he knew what it meant to hurt that deeply.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Bass implored.

She closed her eyes again to fight back the tears but a traitorous teardrop spilled beneath her lashes and rolled down her cheek. She shook her head. She thought about not saying anything but then the more vicious side thought: Why should she protect them anymore? "I saw them, Bass."

"Saw who?" Bass asked, clearly confused.

"They were in the coat room—which is why I don't have a coat—and they were kissing and probably other things," Charlie said. But the anger was back again and her eyes flashed open, fierce and hot.

"Charlie I don't know what you're talking about."

"Miles and my mom." Charlie spoke like their names were curses.

Bass inhaled sharply and his body pulled back because of it. But what Charlie noticed most was a distinct lack of surprise on his face. "You knew? You knew about this? How long has it been going on?"

"Charlie it's not what you think—"

"It is what I think! _I saw them!" _Charlie snapped.

"No, that's not what I mean. I meant that I didn't know anything was going on between them," Bass explained.

"But you don't seem surprised by it," Charlie observed.

Bass turned his head away from her and looked out over the city skyline. "I'm not," he finally admitted and turned back to look at her. "It's a lot more complicated than you think."

"Then tell me. Because all I see is my uncle and mother cheating and betraying my dead father's memory," Charlie said. "I'm not a child anymore. I wish everyone would stop treating me like I am."

"I know you're not a child anymore," Bass said to her and there was something in his eyes that told Charlie that he wasn't just talking about this. But she also saw the pain his words twisted in him though she didn't understand why or how.

"Please, Bass," Charlie beseeched.

"You know that you're uncle and I served in the Marines," Bass began and Charlie nodded. "We did two tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan. On one of those tours we were ambushed. Most of our unit was hurt—many badly—and several were killed. A few went missing: they couldn't find them or their bodies. I was hurt and was evacuated to a hospital in Germany before being brought back stateside. Miles was one of the missing."

This was news to Charlie, who had never heard a word of this. "I don't understand what this has to do with…"

"Miles was with your mother first, Charlie," Bass explained. "They met while we were on leave and they had a whirlwind love affair. Miles was going to get out after our next tour was over and they were going to be together."

Charlie couldn't believe her ears. She never expected any of this at all. "I don't know what to say. I'm still confused. How did my mom and dad…?"

Bass took a very deep breath, held it for a several seconds. He turned his face to the sky as if asking for divine providence or intervention. He exhaled long and slow. "I should not be the one to tell you this…"

"No. Tell me. You're the only one I trust to tell me the truth right now," Charlie said. Her tone indicated she'd never let him leave without talking.

"Rachel was pregnant with you when Miles and I shipped out again," Bass said. He reasoned that it was best to rip the bandage off quick and bloodless than wheedle around the uncomfortableness.

The force of his words actually pushed Charlie backwards and her back slammed painfully into the railing. "What?" She could barely get the breath to say the word.

"She was pregnant and Miles went to war. He went missing a few months later. And we were all devastated. Rachel was pregnant and alone. Ben was an honorable man. Before we left Miles asked Ben to take care of you both in case he didn't come back. And when notice came that Miles was M.I.A. and most likely K.I.A. Ben stepped up to do the honorable thing and offered to marry her so that she could be taken care of and that you would still have the Matheson name," Bass explained. "He was trying to do right by his brother's child. Rachel was younger and Ben was already established and working at the university while also trying to build up this company," Bass pointed inside in reference to the tech company he and Rachel had built up in the last twenty years. "Eventually, Rachel accepted and they were wed in a quiet ceremony in our hometown of Jasper. A few months later, you were born. I was home, out of the hospital but not yet ready to be redeployed. I saw you after you were born. You were precious and perfect, Charlie. And Ben loved you from the first second you were placed in his arms. And eventually, Rachel and Ben came to truly love each other. I don't want you to doubt that. Your parents did love each other."

"But Miles is my father," Charlie muttered. "But what…He is…Why? No one…" She couldn't seem to find the words now.

"I redeployed and we were on a rescue mission in a village," Bass explained. "Imagine my surprise when I found my brother alive. He looked like shit but he was alive. _Alive_." Charlie heard the awe still in Bass' voice after all this time. Knowing how close Bass and Miles were, she could only imagine what it must have felt like for Bass to go any length of time thinking that his brother was dead. She now understood better why he clung so tightly to him—because he'd lost Miles but got him back unlike all the others he'd lost.

"He was eventually shipped stateside. Miles learned what had happened in the interim. That Rachel had married Ben and given birth to you."

"But why didn't Miles say he was my dad?" Charlie asked and hated the film of tears that blurred her vision. Had he wanted nothing to do with her?

"Charlie, Miles was in a bad, dark place. And he knew he was in no condition to be a father," Bass explained. "He saw the family that had been built in his absence and he decided that this was the very best thing he could give you. His experience while captured changed him; made him more jaded. He definitely had PTSD. But Miles had also been the one to help keep three of our fellow Marines alive during their months in captivity. Miles might not always make the best decisions but his intentions always come from the best place."

"He always called me 'Kid,'" Charlie remarked.

"You thought it was a nickname but it was more than that. Ben understood. Just as he understood why Miles never put a claim on you. He couldn't because he felt too damaged. He was ready to get out of the Marines when my family died. He'd finally been cleared for duty but his time was almost up. He was a few weeks from having to return to base when my family was killed. He helped me bury them back home. And Miles reenlisted with me and returned overseas for one last tour—this time in Afghanistan—because I needed my brother. Miles makes tough decisions but he always tries to look out for those he cares about. And Charlie, Miles loves you. When I saw you with him for the first time, it was clear that he thought you had hung the moon and it meant the world to him that you were still close with him as your uncle."

"So all this time, Miles has been in love with my mom," Charlie realized.

"Yes. But he wasn't going to tear up your family then. You had already grown quite attached to Ben. Your first word was 'Dada' to him. Miles loved you. When our third tour was over, we got out and moved here to Chicago so that he could be close to you. He still wanted to watch you grow up," Bass explained.

His words brought to mind that there wasn't a single important milestone in her life that she could recall Miles missing: every one of her ballet recitals, her school concerts and plays, sports games, graduations. All of it.

"And my mom?"

"Rachel did love Ben. Don't think that that's not true. And she made a commitment to him. Plus she became pregnant with Danny and he was so sick—it just didn't seem fair to put more upheaval in everyone's lives. All three of them sat down and made this decision together," Bass explained. "But Rachel always loved Miles too. You don't forget that kind of love, ever."

"Like you and Shelley?" Charlie murmured.

Bass gave a sigh. "Shelley will always hold a special place in my heart. That will never change."

Charlie felt foolish that despite the rather large upheaval the truth brought to her life, Bass' words hurt. She'd been naïve to think he'd ever love her. His one true love was Shelley and he'd never let another woman get so close to his heart again. A tryst behind a shed didn't change that.

"I need to process this. I need to be alone right now," Charlie said.

"I can't leave you right now, Charlie. You're too upset."

Charlie scoffed. "That's rich. You can't leave me alone? That's all you've been doing for months. So do me a favor and go back inside to your _date_."

"My what?" Bass asked incredulously.

"Your Lolita in the blue dress," Charlie explained.

"Charlie I didn't bring a date," Bass said.

"I know. It was a euphemism for what you'll be doing later with her," Charlie sneered.

"Charlie I was only talking with her. And what does it matter to you? Where's your boyfriend? Or did he go home for the holidays?"

"Jason and I broke up," Charlie told him. Bass said nothing; just stared at her before demanding in a low growl, "When?"

"A couple of weeks ago after Thanksgiving," Charlie answered.

A Thanksgiving where he had joined her family because it was too expensive to fly home to California for a few days and he'd needed to work and also study because finals were just after the short break.

"I thought you guys were pretty serious," Bass said.

Despite the chilly air, Charlie's face flamed. She knew he was referring to catching them kissing on the porch. But Charlie had done so out of guilt because she'd spent much of the dinner telling herself not to look at Bass, who had inexplicably been seated across from her, and failed at it. Instead of rising to the bait, Charlie just shrugged nonchalantly. "Does it matter?"

"Why'd you breakup?" Bass answered with a question of his own. But Charlie called his bluff by surprising him with a direct and honest answer: "Because I wasn't in love with him."

"And he was with you?"

"No."

"So what was the problem?" Charlie noticed that as this exchange took place the space dividing them kept shrinking until Bass was towering over her even though she was in three inch heels.

"The problem was I had feelings for somebody else," Charlie said enigmatically.

And now he called her bluff. "Who?" Bass demanded softly. He took an unconscious step closer to her, the toes of his dress shoes brushing the toes of her heels, but before she could formulate an answer the terrace door opened.

"Bass, we need your help. Charlie has gone A.W.O.L. It's Defcon 1."

Bass turned to face his brother and in the process brought Charlie into Miles' line of sight. Charlie just stared at him—her new knowledge rendered her helpless to understand how to handle this version of Miles who was not just an uncle and not quite a father.

"Charlie. We need to talk." Miles' tone made it clear that it wasn't up for debate.

"So we can talk because you're ready. It's all about what you—and _her_—decide," Charlie said.

"Listen Charlie: There are some things you need to know," Miles said.

"I already know," Charlie said.

"No. You think you know because of what you saw but you don't," Miles argued.

"Miles. She _knows_," Bass interjected. The emphasis gave Miles pause for a moment until comprehension dawned. "How?" Miles asked when he regained the ability to speak.

"I told her," Bass confessed and prepared himself for the fallout.

"You what?!" Miles snarled. The disbelief, the anger, the betrayal was evident on his face. "You had no right…"

"I forced him into it. He was the only one I could trust to give me the truth after what I saw," Charlie defended.

"Charlie, it's very complicated," Miles started again, thinking that Charlie only knew the basic truth about her paternity.

"Miles, have you found her?" Rachel's voice called out. As she turned to enter the terrace, she caught sight of her daughter. "Charlie."

Charlie felt her anger burn anew at the sight of her mother. For Charlie her mother's betrayal felt worse than Miles'. Maybe it was because her relationship with Miles had always been easier than the one she had with her mother. Plus Charlie could empathize with Miles always loving Rachel despite everything all these years. No matter what, her love for Bass never waned and that kind of love and its accompanying misery was what had started her down this road to ruin tonight.

Yet Rachel had apparently loved two men simultaneously for decades and had wasted no time moving from one man to another. Charlie doubted whether her mother had even tripped over her fath—err, Ben's—ghost while she moved into Miles' arms. Charlie couldn't even imagine loving someone else the way she loved Bass. There didn't seem to be enough room for her to physically hold that kind of love without it breaking her apart from its sheer strength and volume. As it was, Charlie marveled that her body could bear all her love for Bass all these years given its strength.

"Charlie, can we please talk?" Rachel asked.

"I already know what you're going to say," Charlie argued. "I know about Miles and Ben."

Rachel gave a shocked look at Miles. "I didn't tell her," he denied.

"I did," Bass spoke up.

"Well then you need to hear everything," Rachel rationalized.

"I don't want to hear it," Charlie said.

"Stop being childish Charlie," Rachel scolded. "You want to be seen as an adult then act like one."

"Excuse me?" Charlie asked, stunned.

Bass stepped in between them and forced Charlie to focus all her attention on him. He cupped her face and spoke softly so only she could hear him. "Let them tell you their story. You should hear it from them. You owe it to all of you to at least listen. They'll have answers that I can't give you." Charlie nodded. "Good. Because when you're done getting your answers, I'm going to need one of my own."

"To what?"

"What we were talking about before we were rudely interrupted," Bass said and gave her an knowing look. Then he brushed his lips softly against her forehead.

"Um. What the hell Bass?" Miles uttered in shock.

"Later, brother," Bass said. "Talk with her." Then he left them.

"Why don't we take this inside where it's warmer?" Rachel suggested.

"Good idea," Miles agreed readily. And told himself the fact that the booze was there was just a coincidence—albeit a happy one.

Miles grabbed them each a drink and joined Rachel and Charlie in a small room that had a couple tables and chairs. "So Bass told you what exactly?" Rachel inquired.

Charlie summarized what Bass had told her about the truth of her parents and Rachel and Miles' history. As the shock had begun to wear off Charlie began to see things differently, especially as she retold the story. The story, the words to it, suddenly felt differently as she spoke them instead of hearing them. It didn't make it right, but she could understand their desire to be together after so many years apart. Hadn't she felt the same shaming freedom to resume her love and dreams of a life with Bass after Shelley's tragic death? Of course, she'd still been too young and Bass wasn't even remotely interested in her that way. However, her mom and Miles had a tragic past and had been denied their own happily ever after for years. She pined for a wish; they pined for a missed reality.

"So he gave you the gist," Miles said when she'd finished.

"Do you have questions? You must have them," Rachel surmised.

"Did you guys fool around while he…"

"Your dad, Charlie," Miles interjected. "Ben was your dad. Nothing changes that, kiddo. Not even death."

Just like that Miles was able to get to the crux of her problem: Charlie felt like she'd lost her dad all over again. She didn't know how to reverse over twenty years hardwiring that said Ben Matheson was her dad.

"And no, we didn't," Rachel added, correctly guessing Charlie's question. "I was absolutely faithful to your dad, Charlie."

"I couldn't dishonor my brother by cheating with Rachel behind his back after everything he'd done to take care of her and you while I was gone," Miles said. "Nothing ever happened between us."

"So when did this start?" Charlie asked. "Please don't tell me the day of his funeral."

"No. It was only a couple weeks ago. I promise," Rachel vowed. "I don't want you to think that I didn't love your dad, Charlie. I did. He was a wonderful man and father and our life together was important to me. I put my love for Miles away but…that doesn't mean it disappeared. But I never would have ever done anything about it. If it wasn't for the cancer taking your dad….Sometimes the heart wants what it wants without regard to anything else. Do you understand?"

The pointed look her mother gave her made Charlie believe that Rachel knew about her love for Bass. And she did understand. Charlie had known all along that loving Bass the way she did was impractical and would only hurt her but she couldn't seem to break herself of it. She knew she loved Bass just like she knew her eyes were blue and her hair was blonde. It was a piece of her; hell, she may have been born with it the way it felt so intrinsically a part of whom she was.

"Yes. I understand," Charlie said.

"Please don't shut us out of your life," Miles asked.

Charlie understood what he was really asking: Don't make me choose between you and your mother. He had already lost years with Rachel, but if Charlie pressed it she knew that Miles would step away because Miles always put Charlie first. That's why he had stepped away from her and gave her to Ben, a man far more capable of being a father than Miles found himself when he'd been rescued. For a moment Charlie wondered what her life would have been like had Miles not been injured and captured. He would have returned home from his tour of duty and eventually married her mom. They could have been a happy unit together.

Except then Charlie wouldn't have Danny. And Danny was her best friend and brother and she couldn't imagine losing him. It'd be easier to amputate her arm.

Her mother had called her childish and in some ways Charlie knew she was right. She had been looking at the situation through the narrow lens of a child. Sometimes things were black and white in this world; other times they were not. This was one of those. She wanted to be with Bass in the worst way; it existed in her like an ache that never faded. How could she stand in the way of that kind of love for someone else? Even if it was between her mom and the man she'd always considered her uncle.

"I won't," Charlie assured Miles. She gripped his hand to affirm her words. "I'm not saying it won't take some adjusting—and you'll definitely be explaining this all to Danny—but if you two are happy, then I want you to be happy."

"That's what your father said to us the last day he was conscious," Rachel said and tears spilled from her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asked, shifting in her seat to lean closer to her mother, grabbing her hand too.

"Your dad knew that it was almost…time," Rachel said lamely. "He was ready. The chemo and the radiation all took so much out of him. He was tired. I was sitting with him—you weren't there because you were finishing your final exams and Danny was back in Boston—and Miles came in to visit. Ben spoke to us about what he hoped would happen. He wanted you to finish your degree and become a writer; he wanted Danny to graduate from M.I.T. and go on to get his masters…"

"He was adamant that Danny _not_ go to CalTech for that," Miles interjected dryly. "Unless Danny wanted him to roll over in his grave. But we decided we wouldn't tell that to your brother."

Charlie laughed. It sounded like her dad, a graduate of M.I.T. He liked to tell her about the pranks he'd been involved in against CalTech. There he'd met his oldest friend, Aaron Pittman, who now worked with Google. How apropos that Danny already planned to apply for the graduate program at M.I.T. As if there was ever any doubt that he'd go anywhere else, between their dad and Aaron's influence all throughout his life. She was pretty sure that if Danny had applied to CalTech Aaron would have been rendered speechless, which would normally take an act of God to accomplish. She started to plot about a possible prank she and her brother could play on Aaron, by making it look like Danny had applied and been accepted to CalTech's masters program.

It was that thought that convinced Charlie that she was going to be okay. If she could think of plotting pranks with her brother it meant that the core of who she was had already made peace with the situation. It wasn't exactly all sunshine and roses in her head; there was a lot of adjusting that would need to take place. But theirs was a story not all that dissimilar to hers. While she doubted whether she'd ever get her happy ending, she couldn't bear to stand in the way of someone else's. If she could put her feelings aside and let Bass be with Shelley without spite or jealousy then she could let her mother and uncle be together. She loved them as well. If you loved someone you wanted what was best for them, no matter the cost to yourself.

"So Dad wanted you…?"

Miles shook his head. "No. What he wanted was for us to figure out what would make us happy. He didn't want to be the thing that kept us apart anymore. If we wanted to be together, he was okay with that. Or if we found happiness elsewhere, he was okay with that too. He just wanted us to all be okay."

"And so we will be," Charlie vowed, squeezing their hands. "For him and for us."

"He wanted us to tell you the truth," Rachel said. "He just wanted us to wait until after he was gone. He wanted to live with you thinking of him as your dad. We could never take it away from him or from you either. That's why we still hadn't told you—we weren't sure we ever wanted to."

"The last words Ben ever said to me, Charlie," Miles spoke up, and her usually stoic uncle had a tremor in his voice that really shook Charlie to her core more than anything. "He thanked me for giving him a daughter. You were the light of his life, Charlie. You will always be his daughter. No matter what."

Undone, Charlie threw herself into Miles' arms and he caught her adeptly. Well practiced from all the times she'd launched herself at him as a child. She buried her face into his neck and cried. "I'm glad," Charlie whispered through her tears. Then she pulled back. "But I love you too, Miles."

"I know, kiddo," Miles assured her and gave her a kiss on her forehead. "Okay. No more tears. Your dad would hate to see you cry, especially on New Year's Eve. This was his favorite time of the year."

"He liked to think of each new year as a science experiment with new things to be discovered," Charlie paraphrased one of her dad's well-worn adages.

"There's a little over an hour until midnight," Rachel observed. "Still time for you to find the person you want to ring in the New Year with."

Unbidden, thoughts of Bass came to Charlie's mind. She wondered what it would feel like to ring out the old and ring in the new with the taste of him on her lips. To be suspended in that glorious second of two places at once—then and next—while holding onto him. The smile bloomed on her face without warning. She thought of the question Bass wanted an answer to. She hoped her answer was one he wanted. Charlie had no other answer to give him. It was the same answer her whole life. Him.

She chose him.

Always him.

No matter what.

"Wait. What's that smile about?" Miles asked with growing concern. "I thought you and Jason broke up. Are you saying you have someone new already?"

"Not new. Always," Charlie corrected.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Miles demanded and all trace of sentiment had left his voice. His no-nonsense, I'm-irritated-simply-because-people-exist-voice was back. It only made her smile grow brighter. He was still her Miles. And he always would be. No matter what, too.

"Bass," she murmured.

Miles was actually rendered mute. Which was saying something because while he wasn't particularly loquacious he was always quick with a pithy one-liner. Instead, once he found his voice again, he babbled. "I'm sorry…Bass…_Bass_-_Bass_? As in my best friend, Bass? That Bass? Sebastian Monroe?"

"There's only one of him," Charlie answered.

Miles thought back to their exchange on the terrace. He could actually feel his blood pressure rising like mercury in a thermometer. "What the hell is going on between you and Bass?!" Miles demanded.

"Nothing. _Yet_, if I can help it," Charlie told her uncle.

"But he's—and you're and when? What?" Miles stammered.

"He's your best friend. He's my friend too," Charlie told him. "But he's always been more to me."

"How much more?" Miles demanded in a dangerously low tone.

"It's not like that," Charlie scolded. _Yet_. "But I've always been in love with him. And I'm tired of pretending I'm not. I'm sure you can understand what that feels like?" Charlie asked pointedly.

Her words made him speechless again and he kind of opened and closed his mouth like a fish which amused her enough to give him a quick smooch on the cheek.

"Go, Charlie," Rachel encouraged. "I'll talk to him."

Charlie stood up and bent down to give her mother a hug. "Thanks, Mom," she whispered into her ear.

"If you're sure it's him, Charlie," Rachel whispered back and Charlie nodded her head. "Then be happy, sweetheart. Both of you deserve it."

She gripped her mother tighter in a hug before standing and moving towards the door. Charlie left her mother to explain to her uncle that just as they were the loves of each other's lives, his best friend was the love of hers. The last thing she heard as the door closed behind her was Miles saying, "So does Bass have feelings for her too? How the hell long has this been going on?"

She didn't know about Bass. She still wasn't sure about him either way. But Charlie knew that for her she'd been sure of her love for Bass most of her life. Charlie moved down the hallways back towards the sound of the revelry of the party. She found him leaning up against a wall, a bottle of champagne in one hand and her coat slung over his other arm while that hand held a small carryout box. When he noticed her approach he stood up from the wall, much to Charlie's disappointment. She was rather fond of his lean.

"How did it go, Charlotte?" Bass asked; his worry evident on his face and in his voice.

"Well it's not perfect but I understand more than I did," Charlie said. "I'm still confused because it appears my entire life has been built on a lie…"

"No. It was built on choices made out of unconditional love for you," Bass corrected her.

It was just the perfect thing to say to her to help smooth out some of the rougher edges. And it was so like Bass to find a way to make her feel better.

"It would be selfish of me to stand in the way of their happiness anymore," Charlie said. "Knowing that my dad wanted them to be happy together helped. It doesn't feel like they are betraying him anymore which was good to know. I have no idea how Danny will take this but I'm leaving that up to them."

"Good decision. So I take it you at least left in a good place?" Bass asked for assurance.

"Mostly. Well, the truth is I left while my mom tried to explain to Miles that you were the one I wanted to ring in the New Year with," Charlie said with more bravery than she felt.

She watched the transformation upon his face. First he had the blank look of shock, then there was confusion, followed by understanding, and then—much to her own joy and surprise—happiness. Like always they conveyed more with a silent look than words. But she blinked when the first words he said were, "Damn it."

"What?" Charlie asked.

"I wish my hands weren't full. I desperately want to kiss you now," Bass answered her. He looked down at the bottle of champagne and she could clearly see his war over keeping the bottle or chucking it. She spared him the decision but taking his face in her hands and kissing him instead. She felt the coolness of the bottle against her back, even through his jacket she still wore, as he wrapped his arm around her to draw her in closer.

"I want to celebrate the New Year with you, Bass," Charlie said once she'd pulled away in desperate need of air. "But I don't want to do it here. Take me home."

"Are you sure?" Bass asked, his trepidation clouding his eyes and voice.

"Never more so," Charlie said. She took off his jacket and put on her own and then freed him of the champagne and box so he could put his on. "Unless, of course, you don't…" Her own anxiety started to creep through.

Bass cupped her face with his hand and brushed her cheek with his thumb. "Oh, I want, Charlotte. I want."

They left the party and went to his apartment because it was closer than hers. It was also swankier too. Hers was a single bedroom apartment that she paid for with her job as a barista while also attending classes. Hers had that barely lived in feel whereas his definitely felt like Bass. It was a lot of rich woodwork and earth tones. There were large book cases that attested to his love of reading and in particular history. He had two swords and scabbards from the Civil War—one from the North and one from the South—on his wall. They were his prized possessions, Charlie knew.

They sat on the floor between his brown leather sofa and his glass coffee table sipping on champagne and the box of goodies that he had wrapped up by the party caterers. She took a sip of her drink, and before she could run her tongue along her lip to brush away a stray droplet, Bass leaned forward and brushed her lip with his tongue before seeking entry which Charlie readily gave him. They kissed for a long time—all sustenance forgotten, convinced that they could survive the rest of their days just on each other like two lovers stranded on an isle together.

Their kiss was pulled apart when they were startled by the sound of blasts going on outside. They looked to the large windows that lined his exterior living room wall and saw bursts of color explode in the sky before sprinkling down like hot confetti to the ground. It wasn't lost on Charlie that the first time she kissed Bass it had been during the fireworks of the Fourth of July. Now as the New Year was brought in—Auld Lang Syne was being sung a cappella by a boisterous crowd down on the street as their voices carried up to his fourth floor apartment—fireworks were also in play. How wonderful to come full circle.

"Happy New Year, Charlotte," Bass said smiling at her.

"Happy New Year, Sebastian," Charlie wished back. "This was my Dad's favorite holiday. He liked the promise of discovery the unknown could bring."

"I like what I'm discovering so far this year," Bass agreed.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" Charlie said.

"That it's already the best New Year's ever because you're here," Bass told her. It was a line and Charlie knew it except that when she looked at his face he didn't have that smug look he had when flirting with a woman. There was nothing but blanket sincerity on his handsome face and because of that Charlie decided to not give him a hard time about the line.

"Are you really happy that I'm here Bass?" Charlie asked.

"Of course. Why would you ask that?" Bass asked in surprise.

"Because I'm not sure this means the same thing to you as it does to me," Charlie admitted. She was uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation but she couldn't stand any more uncertainty. She needed to know once and for all what her role was in Bass' life. She didn't want to just be a fling that he hooked up with on special occasions. She wanted and loved him too much to settle for that. It had to be all or nothing. And she needed to know now so she knew how the rest of her life was going to go. They were either going to find a way to make things work between them or she was going to have to figure out how to move on with her life.

She moved to the window and looked down at the mass of people on the street, toasting the New Year and exchanging well wishes and hugs and kisses with each other. They were so happy and excited. She wanted to share that with them—_with Bass_.

"Charlie," Bass said as he moved to join her by the window. He turned her so that her attention was on him instead of the partiers. "This…this is everything to me. Don't you know that?"

Charlie shook her head. "After the Fourth of July…I mean…you pulled away from me and then you were dating that woman."

"Charlie I was scared," Bass admitted. He let loose a sigh. Charlie understood how big an undertaking that confession was for him. Bass was a decorated soldier, the owner of a successful private security firm and had once spent time as a prize fighter. Fear was something he had long conquered.

"Of what?" Charlie asked incredulous. How could Bass be afraid of her?

"I've had feelings for you for a while. They've bothered me for a lot of reasons. Our age difference and the fact that you are the daughter of my oldest friends being the obvious ones," Bass said. "Also, you were grieving Ben's death. I wasn't sure how much of what happened that night had to do with grief than actual sincere feelings. I didn't want to take advantage of you. But I couldn't stop thinking about you; I struggled day and night not to go to you. I started seeing Duncan as a distraction. I figured I needed to wait until it seemed like you were in a better frame of mind. But then you started dating Jason and I thought that whatever had happened between us was just a moment of temporary insanity on your part."

"No, Bass," Charlie inserted.

"Well, after I came to that rather depressing conclusion I couldn't even pretend to be with Duncan anymore. It wasn't fair to her. Besides I didn't have to try to stay away from you anymore because you were already out of reach," Bass continued. "When I saw the two of you on Thanksgiving….I wanted to rip his throat out."

Charlie smiled. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Then tonight…when you said that you guys had broken up because you had feelings for someone else…I let myself believe that it was me. That you could have the same feelings for me that I have for you," Bass said.

"Bass, I have been in love with you almost my whole life. The age thing doesn't mean anything to me. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. As far as my relationship with Miles—whatever its status—I think that if I can come to some understanding about him and my mom then he can come to the same for you and me," Charlie reasoned.

"I think he'll take a little more convincing," Bass reasoned. "You are his world, Charlotte."

"Then he'll want me to be happy. Just like I want him to be," Charlie said.

"And this—us—makes you happy?" Bass asked.

"Bass, this has been without a doubt the craziest night of my entire life. But I wouldn't take one second of it back because it led me to standing here, right now, with you," Charlie said.

"You don't know how long I have wanted to hear you say that," Bass said and captured her lips for his own once again.

"Bass?" Charlie murmured against his lips. "Take me to bed."

Bass pulled back in surprise. "Charlie, we don't have to do that tonight. We have time."

Charlie turned around. She pulled her long hair off her back, exposing her dress zipper. She glanced over her shoulder as encouragement. With trembling fingers Bass reached up and slowly pulled down the zipper. "The second I saw you in this dress tonight I fantasized about this moment: taking it off of you," Bass confessed. He purposefully skimmed his knuckles down her spine as he slowly unzipped her dress. The dress was gold and sequined and in the candlelight of the party Charlie had burnished like a flame the second he'd seen her. The image was forever emblazoned on his mind. She had been looking out a window over the cityscape, a glass of champagne in her hand, her long blonde hair styled in loose waves dangling over her shoulders and down her back. She had nearly brought Bass to his knees.

When the last of the zipper teeth had been freed, Bass skimmed his fingertips back up her spine and her responding shiver made his gut clench. He reached the thin straps and slowly pushed them down her arms. She stood before him bare except for a pair of rather revealing black lace panties. He couldn't stop the groan that escaped his lips. She was stunning; more beautiful than all of his fantasies ever dared to dream. He continued tracing her body with his fingertips and stepped in to brush his lips across her beautiful neck and shoulder.

He was rock hard for her but he wanted this—their first time—to mean something. So he resisted the urge to take her standing. He'd been fantasizing about Charlie for quite a while now. He could maintain his tenuous control long enough to make this memorable for her, them. He kissed down her spine and marveled at its beautiful arch; his hands traced over her finely shaped ass and down her glorious legs that just went on for miles. When he reached the base of her spine he kissed a line to her hip and nipped at the skin just above her panties and then did the same thing to the other side.

Charlie's breath caught each time she felt his teeth lightly pierce her skin. "Bass, please…"

"Yes, Charlotte?" Bass whispered before trailing his tongue back up the length of her spine.

"Don't tease me, please," she whispered. He kissed down her shoulder and her arm and then kissed each of her fingertips. He spun her around and finally saw her gorgeous body from the front. Her breasts were perfect orbs and his hands ached to touch but he held himself back. He took her left hand now and kissed each fingertip and then kissed a line up her arm to her shoulder before sinking his teeth in her neck. She threw her head back in ecstasy. Her hands grabbed at his head and her fingers threaded through his unruly curls pulling him in closer. He'd nip her neck and then soothe the spot with his tongue. Moving up each time, until he reached her jaw line then he kissed along there, before reaching her lips once again. Teeth mashed together, tongues warred. They left no corner of each other's mouths unexplored. Bass could feel Charlie trembling in his arms. He grabbed her ass and pulled her in closer so she could feel the affect she was having on him. As his hardened cock pressed against her stomach, Charlie bit down on his lower lip—hard. "Please, Bass. I can't wait anymore."

Bass hitched her up so her legs wrapped around his waist and he carried her back towards his bedroom. She'd long since disposed of her heels so Bass filed that fantasy away for another time. He laid her down on his bed like she was precious glass and to him she was. He started to undress himself. Bass had long since come to the understanding that Charlie was more than the inappropriate star of all his prurient fantasies.

Somehow she'd become another friend to him by the way she had always been there for him after losing Shelley. Charlie had a knack of knowing just how to be there for him. He'd started to think of her as a good friend. When she'd turned nineteen it was like something had gone off inside of Bass and he'd woke up a different person—or maybe Charlie had—because he suddenly saw her in a different light. She wasn't just a kid anymore; the secret daughter of his best friend and the public daughter of two of his oldest friends. She was a person, a woman, in her own right. And he had wanted her. Desperately.

He told himself all the reasons it was wrong—probably all the reasons that had stopped him from thinking of her in that way before. But somehow those reasons couldn't stick in his mind and it became a struggle to reconcile the rules with how he saw her. It didn't help that their friendship grew and deepened during that time too. Once Ben had taken sick, and when it became obvious that the treatments weren't working, and after he had died, Bass had watched Charlie's amazing strength. She never broke down in front of her father; she kept herself strong for her mother and brother. But she would come to him some nights after seeing her father and she would cry on his shoulder. He'd come to see that she was more than just a beautiful woman with a desirable face and body. She had a fierce heart and a strong will and unyielding compassion and a selfless ability to put others before herself. When Ben had died and he had taken care of Charlie during those first four days afterwards, he had been forced to admit an unshakeable truth to himself: He wasn't just in lust with Charlotte Matheson. He was in love with her.

Like gone-over-the-moon-in-love. He was totally lost to her; it had been a beautiful and painful discovery. After losing Shelley and the baby he had been convinced he'd never love again. To discover that he could had been an exhilarating, if not terrifying, discovery. To love someone meant to risk losing them and all the pain that wrought. But therein lay another cold hard fact: Charlie wasn't his to lose. He truly believed that she would forever be out of reach to him. The rational part of him understood that it was in her better interest. He was twice her age; she was just starting out in life and wasn't even graduated from college yet. She had so much to discover about who she was and this was the time to be doing it. Not settling down with someone who had already been through all that. In discovering his love for Charlie, he discovered that he had all these secret pockets of dreams with her. He imagined standing at the end of a long aisle watching her glide towards him in a vision of white. He thought about them building a family—though this image nearly undid him with relived fear and agony. The very idea of something happening like that to Charlie had broken him and he spent an entire weekend drowning his imagined sorrow.

But none of those things could stop his heart from loving her or stop that love from growing, rooting itself not just in his heart but in his soul. Loving Charlie was just like existing to Bass now. It just was.

Their little tryst over the summer had been indescribable but also had renewed all of Bass' old fears and insecurities. Now all the old reasons that they didn't make sense seemed heavier with reality as the idea that they _could_ be a possibility—that she could feel something for him in return—became something closer to fruition.

As he removed the last of his clothes, he watched as her eyes raked over his naked body. He watched as her lips, swollen from his kisses, parted in a nearly inaudible gasp as she saw his cock. When her tongue unconsciously darted out to wet her lips, Bass was undone. He crawled up the bed and over her. Charlie opened her legs so she could cradle him to her body. He could feel the heat from her center and it only made his penis ache more. If he didn't slip inside her soon he was surely going to lose his mind.

"Are you sure?" Bass asked her. As much as he wanted this—couldn't think about what it would do to him to stop—he also loved her far too much to push her into something she might not be ready for.

In response Charlie raised her hips and brushed against his aching cock. Bass ground his hips into her out reflex. Both groaned at the contact.

"I'm absolutely sure, Bass," Charlie said and kissed him.

"I just don't want us to rush things. If we do this, Charlie, it changes things. It changes everything," Bass told her seriously. "We can't take this back. I can't do a onetime thing with you, Charlotte. You'll be mine now."

"I've been yours for years, Bass. I've been waiting for you to see that. I've been waiting for you to be mine, too," Charlie told him. "I think we've waited long enough."

Bass drew himself up, already missing the feel of her skin against him and slowly pulled the black lace panties down Charlie's legs. He leaned back over her and took a breast in one hand and the nipple of her other into his lips. She arched against his ministrations as he suckled her breast. His fingers flicked her nipple, teasing it to tautness. Then he replaced his fingers with his mouth. One hand trailed down her body, slipped in between her folds and found her wet. So, so wet for him. He groaned at the implication and the vibration had Charlie arching into his mouth again while also pressing her center closer to his fingers. He slipped one then two digits into her. While his mouth alternated between breasts, Bass pumped his fingers into her wet slit and his thumb brushed against her sensitive clit. Charlie was making this incredibly arousing mewling sound.

"Bass, please…._Please_," she cried as she ground her hips against his hand. He kept up his ministrations until she arched one final time, a cry slipping through and he felt her orgasm around his fingers. He continued to milk her through her tremors as she came back to earth. When her breathing had returned to normal, Bass lined his aching, leaking cock against her center and froze.

"Shit. Condom," he muttered and moved to reach into his nightstand.

"No. Don't," Charlie asked. "I want to feel you—all of you—this first time. Please. I'm on the pill anyway. I have been for years."

"You are?" Bass asked.

Charlie nodded. "Of course. I'm not a virgin, Bass." The look he made at that had her smirking. "Seriously? We are about to have sex and you're making a face because I'm not a virgin."

"No. It's not that…I'm not thinking of your virginity like you should still have it because you're still a kid in my mind," Bass explained. "Trust me: I'm definitely _not_ thinking of you like you are a kid."

"Then what is it?" Charlie asked.

"I hate the idea of someone else touching you, Charlie," Bass confessed without remorse. "I want you. I want all of you. I want your body, your heart, your soul." He placed his cock at her entrance again and began to slip inside her, taking her at an achingly slow pace. "And by the way, Charlie, we aren't just having sex. We're making love. I'm making love to you and I plan on doing that every chance I get for the rest of my life. I love you Charlotte Matheson," he confessed as found himself fully enveloped by her silky, wet heat.

He watched as her eyes glassed over and the tears unceremoniously spilled and slid down her cheeks. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" Bass asked in a rush of concern.

Charlie shook her head rapidly. "No. No. It's just…I've waited a long time for this moment and to hear you say you love me. It's more than I ever thought it could be. I'm so in love with you Bass that I thought it would kill me sometimes."

Moved by her declaration, Bass kissed both cheeks free of her salty tears. He kissed her deeply again. She arched her hips up and Bass got the message and began to move inside of her. He started shallow at first and then withdrew until he was nearly completely out before sliding back in slowly. He did this over and over again. Charlie pulled her knees up until her legs wrapped around him giving him more access. She met his hips for each thrust. Charlie scratched her nails down Bass' back and arched her back impossibly further and to take more of his cock. He was long and thick; the biggest lover she'd ever had. He filled her to completion and it felt so right.

Slowly he began to lose his tenuous control and he began pumping into her with less finesse. He could feel his own release creeping up on him. He wanted to send her over the ledge again, this time with him. He moved a hand in between them and brushed her swollen clit with his fingers as he continued to pound hard and deep into her. He felt her fracture around him and the sensation was too great to be borne and he climaxed deep within her, brushing her cervix.

Bass was pretty sure he went blind for a time. He collapsed against her. Somewhere in his mind he knew he needed to get off her so he didn't smother her but he didn't have control over any of his limbs at the moment. The feel of Charlie's slender fingers tracing lines up and down his spine brought him back to reality and he managed the effort to reverse their positions so that he was lying flat on the bed and Charlie was splayed across his chest.

"Hey, Bass?" Charlie murmured. She was now tracing her fingertips across his chest instead of his back.

"Yeah, Charlie?" His voice was even rougher than normal.

"I think we had the best fireworks of all in here," she said. He didn't need to see her face to know she had a cat-who-at-the-canary smile on her beautiful mouth. He laughed and something deep within his soul let go and he somehow felt lighter, brighter even, than he had in years.

"Happy New Year, Charlotte," Bass said after he stopped laughing.

"Happy New Year, Sebastian," she returned.

They both understood they were doing more than ushering in the start of New Year. It was the start of a new life for them both—a life they would build together. Always. No matter what.

- Fin –

**_"For last year's words belong to last year's language_**

**_And next year's words await another voice._**

**_And to make an end is to make a beginning."_**

**_-T.S. Eliot_**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Was that nice and naughty enough? I still get all shades of uncomfortable when I try to write smut. I just don't think it's my forte. Nevertheless, Love, I hope you liked the story I wrote for you.

FYI: The title does not come from the song of the same name but from the idea that Bass and Charlie come together while everything is changing; her life is changing; the year is changing; but what will always remain is their love for each other, now and always, no matter what changes life and time bring them. Anyhoo….

I hope you all enjoyed this. Please feel free to leave me a comment. And for any of you who read this and also read my other story, "Poison & Wine" (if you're still around) I want you to know I haven't forgotten it or you. The entire story has been plotted out for months and months; but life has generally been crazy and around the holidays it has reached a new level of insanity. I know I owe you an update and I will try really hard to get that to you as soon as possible in the New Year. Thanks to any of you who have stuck around. Until then…many happy returns!


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